


“There is no point in using the word ‘impossible’ to describe something that has clearly happened.”

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Douglas Adams, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Established but secret Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M, Towel Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 14:52:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Sherlock makes an 'impossible' discovery...





	1. Chapter 1

"Impossible." Sherlock muttered for the umpteenth time in the last three hours.

John rolled his eyes and pushed a spring roll into Sherlock's mouth. "I think you will have to admit that the word you are looking for is 'improbable' as we have seen the 'impossible' actually happen, with our own eyes - you do recall that?"

Sherlock finished the spring roll and shook his head. "Don't remind me. My eyes will never be the same."

"Oh, come on, I think it's rather -"

"I swear, if the word 'sweet' leaves your mouth -" His threat was interrupted by John pulling him by his tattered tshirt and into a kiss that insured Sherlock's silence for at least the next two minutes.

 

Three hours earlier...

 

"I'm starving!" 

"Hell, well we better stop, then, we just passed that coffee shop a block back." John turned on his heel and began walking in the opposite direction, expecting to hear Sherlock's steps behind him, but he heard nothing but a sharply indrawn breath, followed by a heavy thud, and a cascade of curses. "What the - Sherlock?"

He turned back to find Sherlock sitting on the sidewalk and pointing a shaky finger in the direction of one, no, two familiar figures across the street, holding hands. John smothered a smile then bent down to help Sherlock to his feet. "Impossible."

"Come on, let's get you home, I'll order some take away, while you attempt to recover."

"Impossible..."

"Highly improbable, I grant you, but not -"

"Impossible!"

John knew better than to attempt to further argue the semantics of the situation, so he wrapped his arm around Sherlock and slowly walked them back to Baker Street.

 

"Why is it so hard for you to believe -"

"That my brother and Lestrade are, at the very least friendly, if not a couple?"

"Yes."

"First, have you ever known my brother to have a friend?"

"Nope."

"Second, I consider Lestrade to be of at least moderate if not above average intelligence, and -"

"Uhmhmmm?"

"And, lastly - it's MY brother! Out of everyone in London, out of millions of people, Lestrade chooses my brother - and to hold hands in PUBLIC? It's im -"

"Improbable. Say it with me, love. Im-prob-a-ble."

"Improb - no. I can't. I can't say it, John."

"Since when have you ever doubted your senses?"

"I know, it's just -"

"We can settle this, you know..."

Sherlock looked over at him and shook his head. "NO."

"We'll get a table for four at Angelo's, and invite them to join us -"

"Absolutely NOT!"

"I know what's bothering you. It's not the idea of them as a couple - okay, it's not just that - your pride is hurt."

Sherlock's eyes flashed at him for a brief moment, then he sighed heavily. "How did I not know, John? How did I NOT KNOW?"

"Why would you?" Sherlock glared at him. "You spend as little time with your brother as possible, and Lestrade? You don't even remember his first name -"

"How long have you known?" Sherlock whispered.

"I -"

"You weren't surprised."

"He stopped smoking about six months ago."

"Really?"

John nodded. 

"What else?"

"His suits are fitting a bit better these days, and his shoes -"

"Hell." Sherlock flopped back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"And - he told me."

"He TOLD you?"

"He wanted to know if I thought you'd mind if he and your brother, uhm, let's see what was the phrase he used? Ah, yes, he wanted to know if it would be okay if the two of them 'walked out together.'"

Sherlock spluttered. "Walked out together? Who even says that?" He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, then sighed. "What did you say?"

"Honestly, I didn't think that what two consenting adults did should bother you too much, and I told him that."

"But - it's not just two - it's - hell. Is he happy, are they happy?"

"What did you observe today?" John asked quietly.

"I - uhm, I suppose, if they were anyone else, I'd have said they were comfortable in one another's company, relaxed and I think I heard my brother actually whistle. I just never thought I'd see a day when my brother was actually -"

"Actually?"

"Happy."

"Way I see it, you have a couple of options, you could simply delete it, or -"

"All right..." Sherlock growled as he got up from the couch, and searched his coat pockets for his phone. "All right... you win."

 

Dinner at Angelo's. Friday at 8. - S

Mycroft sat up and stared at the text then handed his phone to Greg. "What do you make of this, Gregory?"

Greg rubbed his eyes and squinted at the message. "Dinner invitation from your brother?"

"Impossible."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Greg meet up on their usual pub night...

"How did he figure it out?" Greg asked after they'd both had their first pints of the night. "Was it something I did or said -"

John shook his head. "We were out and about after a case a couple of days ago, and he spotted the two of you holding hands. I guess you were headed for lunch, or - uhm..."

"Damn." Greg ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "It wasn't that I didn't want to tell him. I just didn't - well, to be honest, he and Myc see each other so rarely that I didn't think it would matter much in the long run - and I thought it might be weird for him if he knew. Is he okay? You didn't tell him -" He snorted as John's eyes changed slowly. "Bloody hell. You did tell him you already knew - oh hell - I didn't mean to cause any problems between -" He sighed as he signaled for another two pints and looked back at John. "You - you enjoyed knowing something that he didn't - damn, I wish I could have been a fly on that wall when he realised..."

John grinned at him as he picked up his new pint. "Yeah, it was nice for a change. I think what annoyed him the most was that he didn't deduce it long before I found out."

"Wait. Are you telling me you knew before I told you?"

John rolled his eyes and put down his pint. "I know how being in a relationship can change people. I don't know Mycroft that well, but he's not showing up unannounced as much as he used to, if he needs something, he calls or texts before, and I haven't been kidnapped in a few months. But you - you I see at least once a week. You smile more, even though you try not to. You do. The new suits, new ties -"

"You noticed the ties?"

"They are bought by someone who knows that you won't wear anything too extravagant, but also wants to spoil you a bit, and they tend to bring out your eyes."

"And Sherlock didn't notice?"

"You know Sherlock - when he gets on a crime scene, he has eyes only for the case, and at home -" John cleared his throat and turned away.

"At home....?" Lestrade raised a curious eyebrow at him.

"We're still, uhm, in our honeymoon stage, I guess you could say."

"Not as many experiments, or bullet holes in walls, hmmm?" Lestrade buried his grin in his pint.

"Uhm, no, he has other distractions to keep him from being bored these days..."

Lestrade whispered, "I bet. Yeah, I see - talking about this is a bit -"

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Do you still want to meet up at Angelo's on Friday night? I'm guessing you intended it as something like a peace summit, but if it's going to turn ugly -"

"He'll be on his best behavior, I promise..."

 

"Miss me?"

"Had some reading to catch up on." Mycroft took off his glasses and laid them aside and closed his book. "I must admit I'm still adjusting to this."

"This? You mean us? Me?"

"I've never had anyone I could honestly say was my friend, and I'm nearly forty-five years old, and now, I have -"

Lestrade watched his face carefully, as he was still learning his tells, and he was suddenly reminded of Sherlock. Or at least the Sherlock he knew from years ago when they had met for the first time.

"Tell me you weren't just thinking of my brother -"

Lestrade sighed and settled on the bed next to him. "I just remembered the first time I met your brother, well, not the very first time - I was sitting there waiting for him to regain consciousness. You, as I recall were at some meeting, or out of the country, couldn't be reached, I was trying to bust whoever he got the drugs from, so I needed to get a statement from him. When he finally woke up, and got over being pissed that I had saved his arse, he started talking to me, and I realised how smart and how lonely he was, I'd never met anyone so lonely, until I met you, and you didn't even know you were lonely."

Mycroft bit his lip, then began working on Lestrade's shirt. "It wasn't until the first time you kissed me good night, then got back into your car and went home that I started to know what loneliness meant."

Greg sighed as Mycroft pushed his shirt from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. "That shirt -"

"Looks good on you, and even better off of you -"

"You are impossible," Greg murmured against Mycroft's lips.

"No, just a bit improbable."


End file.
